


Bittersweet

by flyingcrane



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/M, Gen, Other, Post "Baltimore", Pre "Secrets", Romance, Spoilers for "Baltimore"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcrane/pseuds/flyingcrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His bittersweet memory finally had a bittersweet ending. Post "Baltimore".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> Written a while ago, set before Wendy Miller appeared in season 9 but set almost immediately after episode "Baltimore" with Tony's ex-partner, Danny.

Tony caught sight of the woman he at one time thought he would spend the rest of his life with. She saw him too and with an almost bittersweet smile, she walked up to him, his coworkers right behind him and watching carefully.

Tony stepped up to meet her as well, a sad smile on his lips, "Hey, Wendy."

She smiled, her expression clouded with melancholy, and both shared a nostalgic look, "Tony." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a way she hadn't done for what seemed like a lifetime. He did the same almost immediately, struck by how familiar her form felt close to his body but at the same time how much they didn't fit anymore.

He didn't miss the small, elegant gold band adorning her left ring finger and felt his chest swell with happiness for her despite the small prick of jealousy that would probably never go away. He didn't say his congratulations but she could see it in his emerald eyes and thanked him the same way – the thought that it could've been his ring on her finger had passed but it was fleeting.

"It's been a while, huh?" He asked, pulling back but still staying within arms reach.

Wendy wasn't uncomfortable at all, but there was still that sadness in her eyes now that didn't belong, mixed with curiosity and memories, "Yeah. Ten years." She smiled and looked him up and down, "You look good in a suit."

Tony offered a subdued grin, "And you still look as beautiful as you did when you threw your music book at me in class." His heart settled a bit when he heard her tinkling laughter.

She brushed her auburn hair from her face and placed her palm on his cheek, an intimate gesture they hadn't shared in so long, "It'll be okay, Tony." She whispered thickly.

Tony gave a mirthless smile and looked down before meeting her eyes again, "Not even asking if I was okay." His smile now held some happiness as well as relief and a comforting sense of familiarity, "That's so like you. Guess some things don't change much, huh?"

Her own smile brightened in response, "More like some people don't change much."

For a moment, or minutes, or hours, they stood and just breathed each other's presence, the comfort and support that seemed unreachable anywhere else. They were just two people in a world of billions, their own pain and baggage and thoughts just drops of water in a vast ocean of the imagined and unimaginable, their words mere whispers to the ears of someone that would be, could be, should be, might be a stranger.

The moment was broken when their eyes made contact again, something broken now fixed, and they shared one last, secretive smile that would always and only be theirs.

"Bye, Wendy."

"Bye, Tony."

And she was gone.

Tony could feel the eyes of his coworkers boring into his back and shoulders, but he ignored them for now. He wanted to hang on to the last threads of their connection, to remember sweeter memories filled with laughter and fast food and music and less darkness.

When Danny was his partner that had his back and wasn't a dirty cop.

When his boss was someone dependable instead of a murderer.

When he had someone special to go home to after a long, arduous day filled with regrets and weakness and anger that weighed a little more on his already fractured conscious.

He tipped his head to the sky, grey and black clouds rumbling their discontent, warning those below that the heavens were about to cry.

Tony felt the first drop fall onto his cheek, a cold sting that seemed to wake him up from his daze. Its presence brought down a crashing wave of realization and finality with the weight of Gods hand, washing away the uncertainty, the 'what if's and 'could be's, the torrent of emotions that were finally letting loose and disappearing with the bone-deep aches in his soul.

It was freeing and devastating at the same time, but he finally had an end to his story, this memory started and written and never finished so long ago.

As the rain continued to fall, continued to cry because Tony didn't think he could, he lost track of the tears.


End file.
